


Take His Hand.

by FloralSweets



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mentioned Kisaragi Aine, Past Aine/Reiji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:01:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28304217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloralSweets/pseuds/FloralSweets
Summary: Reiji has always loved Ranmaru's hands, from the way he uses them to play to the way they feel when their fingers are intertwined.
Relationships: Kotobuki Reiji/Kurosaki Ranmaru
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	Take His Hand.

**Author's Note:**

> This bad boy is going up raw and unedited as an attempt at posting a vaguely Christmas fic on time. I've been in a RanRei mood and I cannot change this.

When they first met at the Shining Agency, it was not the first time Reiji had seen Ranmaru. The work of a solo idol was lonely. While there was a bit more control over the image and the final outcome of a song without the input of bandmates, there was also no one to bounce ideas off, and no one to spend long nights writing with when deadlines became a bit too close for comfort, no one to grumble to about needing coffee in the early mornings. The work was all his, the pressure all resting heavily on his shoulders. The single for his album needed to be ready for mixing in two days, and Reiji had absolutely nothing.

His apartment, large enough to feel far too empty and cramped enough to be restrictive, had become a prison. Days old cups of half-empty, frigid coffee sat scattered about his desk. His hands shook, the pen between his fingers refusing to write. No matter how hard Reiji fought, there was nothing. He had been at that desk for days, desperately searching his head for words, for a melody, for anything that might be useful. Nothing.

He had to get out of there. He had to do something besides sit at that desk. It wasn’t working. He sat the pen down. It had won for the day. Not a single workable word or usable note written. With a huff, he ran a hand through his hair. When had he last washed it? When had he last taken care of the mugs and takeout boxes that littered the room? As he stepped away from the chair he’d been plastered to for the last week, the area surrounding it made itself known. No wonder he hadn’t been able to write. This whole place needed to be cleaned. But he couldn’t. Not right now. Now, he needed to get out.

It took a few minutes, but dry shampoo and fresh clothes did wonders to hide the mess he had made of himself. The apartment was still a disaster, but at least he was decent. Reiji sighed. This would all need to be dealt with. The mess, the song, an actual shower. But all he wanted was to leave, to hide away from this place.

The streets of Tokyo were comforting. The scent of a hundred different restaurants wafted through the air, and music blasted from dive bars and tiny venues. Reiji had made a habit of picking out any little venue at random and seeing what he could find. On nights like this, when all he could do was stare at the wall, it helped to hear something he’d never heard before. One small building, tucked away between two massive shops, called to him. He paid the cover quickly and slipped inside, finding himself in a tight, loud crowd.

People pressed shoulder to shoulder, moving to the heavy beat. He wouldn’t have chosen this on his own, but it was fast and loud, and before he knew it, he was following the lead of the crowd, letting himself feel the bass in the floor. His eyes moved to the stage, and he smiled. It was the bassist that caught his eye. Multi-colored stage lights glinted off silver hair, shifting over it and casting strange shadows over pale skin. It was impossible to tell the color of his eyes as the lights changed from red to yellow to green, but Reiji thought they were beautiful.

The way the man’s hands moved over the strings made him soften. The movement was so delicate, the touch tender and almost loving, even as his fingers moved so quickly and the sound that resonated from them seemed so heavy. Their singer’s voice wasn’t the greatest, and the drums seemed to fall off beat for just a second every few minutes, but that bass was steady. Even as those who surrounded him on the stage performed with excited mediocrity, the bass was steady, practiced, grounding.

It was a short set, and Reiji had only managed to hear the last few songs. Over the sound of the crowd, he never caught the name of the band onstage. When the bassist appeared at the bar in the back of the room, Reiji was tempted to walk over, to introduce himself, to tell him he had played beautifully. But a small flock of women had surrounded him before he had the chance to let the thought fully pass through his mind. It would be an inconvenience to interrupt. Still, he spared a glance back toward the man once more before exiting, and must have imagined that their eyes had met.

With his heart pounding blood through his veins with renewed vigor, Reiji decided that the song waiting on his desk needed a stronger bassline.

The first few days sharing an apartment with his new bandmates were stressful. Each had a thousand things to do, rushing to meetings and dinners with agents, unpacking the mountain of boxes that had been loaded into each of their rooms. The third morning was the first chance Reiji had to truly breathe. He had barely seen anyone as he ran between talks with his lawyers about the transition of his contract from a solo artist to a member of Quartet Night and forcing himself to unpack.

He stepped into the kitchen, and was surprised to find it already occupied. The scent of coffee filled the air, and he found a tall figure with soft silver hair standing in front of a small french press. Ranmaru turned, and offered the smallest of smiles. “There’s coffee if you want some. Just made it.” His eyes seemed so soft in the early morning light.

“I’d love some.”

Reiji watched as the man poured two mugs, setting the press aside. He seemed to know the exact amount of milk and sugar Reiji liked, pouring it in before passing him the cup. “You’ve been doing this whole idol thing for a long time, yeah?” he asked, moving around the counter and stepping toward the couch. Reiji followed close behind, grateful for the chance at a conversation after the hectic few days they’d had.

He laughed. “Yeah. About seven years now. I’m practically a fossil.”

Ranmaru rolled his eyes, taking a seat beside the man. His hands wrapped around his mug, fingers pressing against the ceramic. “Will it always be like this? So fucking busy I feel like I don’t even have time to breathe?”

The question almost made him wince. It was so similar to the conversations he’d had with Aine so long ago. There were a thousand things he wished he’d said differently then, answers he wished he would have had. “Not always. Sometimes we’ll have weeks at a time where we’ll have tons of free time. And there will be times when we don’t have much room in the schedule, and it’s not going to be fun. But there’s four of us, so it isn’t like we’re in this alone.” He offered a smile, one he wished he could have given his partner so long ago. “If it ever gets too hard, tell me and I’ll do what I can to help.”

Ranmaru nodded. “I’ll take your word. I trust you to know what you’re talking about.” He raised the mug to his lips. “I know we don’t really know each other, but… This is a two way street. I know you’re a solo kind of guy and all, but I’m here.” His hand, still so warm from resting against the ceramic of the mug, pat Reiji’s shoulder, giving it a small squeeze.

Reiji just smiled. He’d had that, once. Someone to turn to when he panicked, someone to talk to when things got hard. After he lost Aine, he had thought he might never have that again. Joining Quartet Night had been, in part, an attempt to get that back, to abandon a piece of that loneliness. He didn’t expect Ranmaru to know much about him, but just about everyone in the industry had heard how close he had once been to Aine, to the idol who just disappeared after showing so much visible stress. It felt like the whole of Japan had turned in to witness Reiji Kotobuki struggle to keep from falling apart in the aftermath. He hadn’t had anyone to turn to then.

“Thanks,” he said, letting out a small sigh. “This is really good coffee.”

Hair damp with snow and cheeks red from the freezing air outside, Reiji stepped inside, large paper bag cradled in his arms. The kitchen in front of him was warm, and he felt like he was melting as he tossed his jacket and boots aside. He couldn’t help but smile when his eyes landed on the three men scattered about the kitchen. So often, he struggled to get Ranmaru and Camus in the same room without them fighting, but there they stood, both laughing as Camus rolled dough over the counter. Ai stood by the window, laser focused on the garland he was pinning up around it.

Ranmaru looked up from his pile of cookie cutters, and hurried toward Reiji, taking the bag from his grip. “You’re freezing. Ai got the fireplace going, go warm up.”

Reiji pouted. “I want to make cookies with you guys. I’m not skipping out, not after I went all that way to get you sprinkles.” He followed the man toward the kitchen, smile on his lips. Ranmaru had mentioned wanting holiday cookies a week ago, and despite not having nearly enough food coloring for frosting or half the amount of sprinkles they’d need, the three had gotten started while Reiji ran to the grocery store a few blocks away. He was grateful to return to a home that wasn’t in ruins, and a trio that wasn’t shouting. When Camus and Ranmaru went at it, it was always so vicious.

“You’ll get to help. But seriously, go warm up.” Ranmaru took one of Reiji’s hands in his, nose scrunching. “You’re cold as hell.” He tugged at the man’s hand, and Reiji followed him toward the fireplace in the living room. They’d all been half-convinced that the thing was just for show, but in the time it had taken Reiji to grab ingredients, they’d figured it out. Ranmaru sat, guiding Reiji down next to him on the hearth. “There. You can’t really decorate cookies if your hands are numb.”

Even once they’d sat, Ranmaru’s hands didn’t leave Reiji’s. He just sat there, thumbs gliding over the man’s cold knuckles. Reiji allowed himself to relax, letting his eyes fall shut for just a moment. It was comfortable, feeling the callus of Ranmaru’s hands against his own, rubbing heat back into his skin.

“Reiji,” came a voice from the kitchen, pulling the man out of the quiet moment. Ai looked toward him, his head tilted. “Look up.”

Reiji did so, finding a small piece of greenery above them. He laughed. “Mistletoe?”

Ranmaru rolled his eyes. “Ai’s been putting it up everywhere.”

Reiji smiled, raising a brow. “Well, you know the tradition.” He wasn’t entirely sure how much he was teasing. There was a part of him that hoped the man would scoff and go back toward the kitchen, ignoring a bad joke. But there was another part, a quiet part that Reiji had been trying to ignore, that never wanted to get go of the warm hands he held, to break through the few centimeters that separated their lips, to just say  _ fuck it _ and see what happened. Maybe it would be a mess. But maybe it wouldn’t.

Ranmaru raised Reiji’s hands with his own, pressing his lips to the man’s knuckles. His eyes shut, just for a second. His kiss was so warm against the cold of Reiji’s skin, and his heart fluttered. Ranmaru turned away quickly, pulling his hands away. “Shit. Was that weird?”

Reiji’s eyes widened, and he couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

“Yes,” came a low, mocking voice from the kitchen.

“No,” Reiji said, shaking his head. “Hey. Look at me.”

Ranmaru listened, turning back to meet Reiji’s eyes. His cheeks were tinted red in a way Reiji swore he’d never seen before. It wasn’t easy to get the man flustered like that. “I panicked.”

Reiji smiled, squeezing the warm hand in his. “It was cute, RanRan. Not necessarily what people usually go to for mistletoe, but you can always try again.” He winked, doing his best to play it off. If Ranmaru had been looking for a way out of actually kissing him, he wanted to make it easy to still escape. If it was a joke, it would be easy enough to get out of. But if he wanted to--

Ranmaru’s lips covered his before Reiji knew what was happening. A warm, rough hand pressed against his cheek, and Reiji found himself leaning into it. It only lasted a moment. It was soft and sweet, and nothing Reiji had never experienced before. He’d had his share of kisses, sloppy drunken mistakes at parties, sweet good night gestures after nice dates, a thousand quick pecks with Aine between shows and meetings. It was just a kiss. But his heart pounded in his chest in a way it hadn’t in a long time.

There was a part of him, when he lost Aine, that swore he would never feel that way again. And, honestly, he  _ didn’t  _ feel the same way he had then. It wasn’t the excitement of his first serious relationship. It wasn’t a rush of feelings shared quickly and in secret. This was gentle and slow, something warm that had been brewing in his chest from the moment he first saw Ranmaru on stage a year ago.

This wasn’t a replacement for the piece of himself that had shattered with Aine. It was something else entirely. Something new.

Ranmaru pulled away from him, and Reiji took a shaky break. “Hey. Hey, Reiji, what’s wrong? Are you crying? Shit. I’m sorry.” Ranmaru’s thumb moved to wipe away the tears at the man’s eyes.

Reiji shook his head. “No, no. Don’t apologize.” He smiled, a small laugh escaping as he leaned into the touch. “I’m happy.” He let his eyes fall shut. “Really happy.”

The stage lights were brutal, causing sweat to drip down off Ranmaru’s face. His t-shirt clung to him as he raised his microphone to the sky. He looked beautiful, hair fighting against gravity and eyes shining in the red light. His chest heaved, and he pulled an arm around Camus’s shoulder. In the beginning, he had always scowled when the two of them made contact on stage, but it was their fifteenth night of tour. They should have had a break by now, but it had been over two straight weeks of shows. He just smiled, seemingly glad to have someone to lean on.

Reiji stepped forward, hand in hand with Ai, leaning his head on Ranmaru’s shoulder. The crowd before him still cheered, and Reiji smiled, shouting his thanks. He wanted to give them all he had in the final few moments, and pushed through the exhaustion. As they waved, stepping toward the exit, he breathed a soft sigh of relief, giving Ai’s hand a squeeze before letting go. “Good work.”

Ai never seemed to get tired on nights like these. His breath might become a bit uneven toward the very end, but he never broke a sweat, never seemed to show the same pure exhaustion the other three did. It must have been nice to be so young. He slumped toward the other two, giving a lazy nudge to Camus. The first week, he’d been quick to rush to each of his bandmates for hugs after shows, but it was clear they were all drained. They should be taking a night off. But this tour was a mess.

Reiji found his place in his dressing room, collapsing onto a small black couch. A moment later, Ranmaru entered, his fingers running through his hair. His eyes drooped, and he moved slowly before falling beside Reiji, leaning into his side. He sighed, and Reiji pulled an arm around him. For a long moment, it was quiet as the two sat together.

“You did great,” Reiji said. “I’m really proud of you.” He moved his hand to Ranmaru’s hair, fingers dislodging the product keeping it in place. It was damp with sweat, not exactly the best to touch, but he was happy to have some sort of grounding contact.

Ranmaru sighed, sitting up. He took Reiji’s hand in his and squeezed it, hard. “I’m trying. I just… I’m not feeling great about it.”

Reiji sat up, more alert now. His brow furrowed with concern.

“You told me to talk to you if I felt like this whole thing was too much. And, shit, I’m wiped, Reiji. I’m tired all the time.” His grip remained tight as he leaned his forehead on Reiji’s shoulder. “This fucking sucks.”

Reiji nodded. “It does. This isn’t how your first tour should feel. We should be getting more breaks.” This wasn’t normal. And to be writing songs the second they made it back to their hotel room didn’t help. Every second spent off the stage was filled with photoshoots and interviews and writing.

“So what am I supposed to do here?” Ranmaru asked.

Reiji squeezed his hand back. “Let’s take tonight off writing. The song will still be there in the morning whether we stare at it and argue about what direction to go or not. The hotel we’re staying at has a hot spring. Let’s go down there for a bit. Take a little break.” He pulled Ranmaru’s hands to his lips, placing kisses on the knuckles, just as Ranmaru had once done, so much closer to home. He unfurled the man’s fingers, kissing the tips, and then the palm, and then his wrist. “It may not be much, but it’ll get us through.” He turned Ranmaru’s arm over, kissing his forearm. “Two more shows. Then we’ll get a big rest.” 

Ranmaru nodded, his hands trailing down to Reiji’s waist, pulling him closer, wrapping his arms around him. “Two more nights. I can manage two more nights if I’ve got you right here.”

It was a short car ride and quick shower, but they seemed to drag on forever. Every step felt like a fight to stay awake until they stepped into the spring. The hot water made Reiji feel like he was melting. He leaned back, skin pressing against warm stone, and let out a sigh. When Ranmaru sat beside him, he lay his head against the man’s shoulder, letting his eyes fall shut.

Ranmaru’s arm slung around Reiji’s shoulder, his fingers kneading gently into the muscle there. Reiji nearly let out a whine at the feeling. When had he gotten so tight? Maybe the stress had gotten to him more than he’d thought.

“Thanks for dealing with me,” Ranmaru said, voice quiet. No one else was around, but it would have felt wrong to break the low volume. “I know it had to scare you to hear me start talking like that. I’m just stressed. I’m not going anywhere.” His hand worked at Reiji’s shoulder. “Thanks for coming down here and helping me calm down. When we get home, things’ll be easier. Promise I’ll make it up to you then.”

Reiji shook his head. “We’re going to get frustrated sometimes. I’m glad you talked to me instead of dealing with it on your own.” He sighed. Two more days, and they’d be home. There would be writing and meetings waiting for them, but it would be easier. Ranmaru’s fingers worked at his shoulders, and he felt himself easing into the touch. Even if they couldn’t be home yet, just that touch helped.

Ranmaru’s hands moved over Reiji’s bare chest, the rough edges of his fingertips trailing over Reiji’s soft skin. He was so gentle, but moved with confidence as he straddled Reiji’s hips, pushing the man back down against his mattress--  _ their _ mattress, really. When had Ranmaru started following him to bed every night? It must have been months ago now.

Reiji smiled as he pulled Ranmaru down on top of him, pulling him tight to his chest and pressing their lips together. He was met with a passionate response, tongues slipping against tongues, tracing over teeth. It was far from the first time they’d fallen into sloppy kisses after a long night of writing, but it was the first time Ranmaru had moved with such precision and confidence.

Reiji rolled them over, resting over the man. As he moved his mouth over his neck, down the man’s chest, he felt fingers card through his hair, taking a tight grip. It was nice, feeling Ranmaru tugging ever so gently, testing the waters. There had been a lot of that over the last few months-- testing waters, seeing where things might lead. As Reiji’s mouth made its way downward, he glanced up, fingers moving over the hem of the man’s boxers.

“Do you want--?” He was cut off before he could finish.

“Yes. Fuck, Reiji, please.” Ranamru had never sounded quite that desperate before. In the months prior, they’d spent plenty of time on tired kisses, with mouths touching anything they could find, hands reaching for whatever they could grab. But they’d waited, maybe a bit longer than either was used to, to move things further. It wasn’t that Reiji didn’t want it-- god, he wanted it. But he didn’t want to move too fast and ruin what they had. What they’d been working with for the past-- had it been almost a year since Quartet Night’s formation already?-- was wonderful. It was nothing he wanted to mess up.

“You’re sure?”

That hand slipped out off Reiji’s hair, fingers tracing the man’s jawline. “Reiji, I’ve never been more sure of anything, alright? I just want you.”

That low, smooth voice was all it took. “Alright,” he whispered, voice a quiet hush against Ranmaru’s ear. They’d moved so slowly that falling had felt less like a freefall tumblr and more like a gentle glide. The worry of ruining what they’d had slipped from his mind as he worked at the man beneath him, guiding him through with soft touches and desperate kisses. The gradual shift of their relationship had never led them in the wrong direction before, and as he pressed into the man beneath him, Reiji was certain they were fine. More than fine. They were absolutely perfect.

The sound of his name on Ranmaru’s lips was made sweeter by the dull fingernails that dug into his back.

“You look pretty in white,” Ranmaru said, that sweet smile dancing on his lips as he leaned against the doorframe. The warm summer breeze moved over the balcony, the lights from the surrounding city illuminating them both in familiar, warm colors. If they tried, they might be able to pretend illuminated windows were starlight.

Reiji reached out his hand, and Ranmaru took it, meeting him outside. The taller man leaned down, pressing a kiss to Reiji’s hair, pulling him close. Soft piano filtered through the glass door from inside, and Reiji followed Ranmaru’s lead as he began to sway in time to it.

“I got you something,” Ranmaru said, pulling back as a lull in the music came.

Reiji raised a brow, stepping back, leaning against the railing. “Ooh, show me.”

Ranmaru nodded, his hand moving to his pocket. For a moment, he shuffled, staring toward the ground, taking a slow breath as if to center himself. “Okay. So. I know we’ve been talking about it a bit, and I know we can’t do it properly here in Japan, but I wanted to just… Make this more official.”

Reiji was already smiling when Ranmaru offered a small black box, a delicate gold ring resting inside. He pulled it out, nodding. They had talked about it plenty. All Reiji wanted was a life together with the man he loved. For the past two years, Ranmaru had been there by his side, and every second he longed to be next to him.

Ranmaru took Reiji’s hand in his, taking the ring between his thumb and index finger before placing it on Reiji’s.

Reiji reached into his own pocket, and couldn’t help but laugh as he retrieved a small velvet box of his own. “You know, I was sort of thinking the same thing earlier tonight.”

Ranmaru smiled, and offered his own hand. Reiji placed the thin band around his finger before bringing his hand upward, pressing his lips to the metal. He kissed the man’s knuckles, his fingertips, his palm, his wrist, and then met Ranmaru’s eyes, both silver in the light of a thousand faux stars. He was beautiful like this. He was always beautiful.

Their lips met, Ranmaru’s hands cupping Reiji’s cheeks. “I adore you,” Reiji whispered the second their lips parted.

Deadlines and commitments would always haunt them, just around the corner and ready to weigh them down. The livelihoods of far too many people depended on their performances. There would always be fear, always be stress and anger and pain. But all that mattered to Reiji Kotobuki was the man before him, the man whose hand he had held a thousand times, and whose hand he had, finally, taken as his.


End file.
